Monday, September 17, 2007
Redefining Evangelism
Lately I have been doing a lot of thinking about the concept of evangelism as it is generally taught in conservative, evangelical churches. If you’re anything like me, this is what you've heard, the general message from the front: “You need to witness more. You’re not doing enough to spread the good news of the gospel. You need to be bolder, more confrontational; you need to tell more people you meet about Jesus. Swallow your fears and do whatever it takes—hand out tracts, leave tracts in bathrooms, leave tracts on your co-workers desks or work stations, whatever. Just do it, because it’s what God says in the Bible we should be doing.”
Or words to that effect. Basically the message I get is that I’m not evangelizing enough, that I could and should be doing more, that I am generally a failure. And, that evangelism consists of quoting Bible verses to people and telling them what the gospel consists of: the good news of Jesus dying on the cross to be their personal savior.
We heard a guy in church recently who is an expert on evangelism, and he shared story after story of how, wherever he goes, he tries to “be the light” that Jesus spoke of that is not “hidden under a bowl.” For him, this means that everywhere he goes, he tries somehow to work Jesus into the conversation, or give out a Bible, whether he’s at the grocery store, watching planes take off and land (it’s a hobby for some people apparently), or doing balloon art on the streets. I was almost surprised he didn't tell the "sitting on the airplane and leading someone to Christ" story.
But I noticed one conspicuous element absent from his talk—there was absolutely no mention of any kind of relationship-building with these people, or that in the context of that passage it refers to people "seeing our good works and glorifying God." Hard to do that outside of the context of a relationship, isn't it?
It would seem that most of his conversations are like “cold calls,” where somebody tries to sell you something door-to-door or over the phone. However, what was all over his sermon was how we should do it like him—be bolder, “be the light,” always be on the lookout wherever we are for an opportunity to “share the gospel”—the good news.
I am willing to bet good money that most people hearing sermons like this walk away feeling like shameful failures because they can not, or are unable to do it like this guy. After all, he does this for a living! He’s a successful example of what Christian evangelism is supposed to be all about! Isn’t he?
Well, I have some reservations about it. Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying the guy hasn’t actually done some good, planted some seeds, or led some people to the Lord. I’m sure he has. But I wonder about motivating people by making them feel like they aren’t doing enough, intentionally (or unintentionally) shaming them into feeling like failures for God.
Reflecting on this sermon, I had some thoughts on what I call a model of “Leadership Evangelism.” It involves seven points based on a leadership paradigm we came up with several years ago for our church that I have adapted to fit into an evangelism context. It begins with the initial premise and then works backward to a conclusion. Here goes:
1. Leadership is influence. Maxwell said it, and I believe it is true. Granted, influence comes by way of a lot of different means: wealth, position, social status, etc. These are not the means of influence I am advocating here.
2. Influence is not manipulation. Manipulation involves deviousness, trickery, or the idea of presenting something such that the person presenting it knows it is false, but does so because it is personally advantageous. So what is influence, as I define it?
3. Influence is inviting another person to experience a new reality or paradigm by first consistently modeling the effects of that new reality in your own life. To establish that the new paradigm has any validity whatsoever, some sort of positive outcome must be demonstrated. This can establish a level of relevance, which will be compelling to some.
4. Ideally, people are influenced by someone else they trust. Generally speaking, people will not value the word of a person that they know cannot be trusted. So how does one establish trust with another person?
5. Trust is earned by demonstrating consistent faithfulness over a long period of time, in the context of a relationship. Trust is not established overnight; it takes many months or years of modeling consistent, faithful behavior to build a higher level of “trust equity.”
6. We have to earn the right to tell a nonbeliever about the gospel. Because the church and Christianity has such a deservedly bad reputation, we are fighting an uphill battle. We have to work twice as hard to gain half as much, but this is simply the reality of our situation.
7. Being a friend to a nonbeliever is doing evangelism. This right here takes most of the pressure and the guilt right off. All you have to do is be a friend, and you are evangelizing.
Sometimes evangelism is a “one-off” type of situation, such as Philip and the Ethiopian eunuch. And for this guy who spoke, if he has the gift of evangelism, then these one-offs might be just the ticket--for him. But what if that approach doesn't work for me?
When we orient the discussion in terms of giftedness and 1 Corinthians 12, then him expecting others to be like him is, to use Paul's metaphor, to expect a toe to become an eye. Maybe for me, I can't be an eye because I am a toe.
However, we can't escape the reality that all believers are supposed to evangelize on some level. What I'm arguing is that--in the context of giftedness--if you are a toe, then be the best toe you can be. I wonder if that just might be a whole lot more compelling than trying to be something you're not. Being a faithful friend to a nonbeliever, simply being yourself and not trying to force the issue all the time under compulsion, may be the most balanced alternative here.
Or words to that effect. Basically the message I get is that I’m not evangelizing enough, that I could and should be doing more, that I am generally a failure. And, that evangelism consists of quoting Bible verses to people and telling them what the gospel consists of: the good news of Jesus dying on the cross to be their personal savior.
We heard a guy in church recently who is an expert on evangelism, and he shared story after story of how, wherever he goes, he tries to “be the light” that Jesus spoke of that is not “hidden under a bowl.” For him, this means that everywhere he goes, he tries somehow to work Jesus into the conversation, or give out a Bible, whether he’s at the grocery store, watching planes take off and land (it’s a hobby for some people apparently), or doing balloon art on the streets. I was almost surprised he didn't tell the "sitting on the airplane and leading someone to Christ" story.
But I noticed one conspicuous element absent from his talk—there was absolutely no mention of any kind of relationship-building with these people, or that in the context of that passage it refers to people "seeing our good works and glorifying God." Hard to do that outside of the context of a relationship, isn't it?
It would seem that most of his conversations are like “cold calls,” where somebody tries to sell you something door-to-door or over the phone. However, what was all over his sermon was how we should do it like him—be bolder, “be the light,” always be on the lookout wherever we are for an opportunity to “share the gospel”—the good news.
I am willing to bet good money that most people hearing sermons like this walk away feeling like shameful failures because they can not, or are unable to do it like this guy. After all, he does this for a living! He’s a successful example of what Christian evangelism is supposed to be all about! Isn’t he?
Well, I have some reservations about it. Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying the guy hasn’t actually done some good, planted some seeds, or led some people to the Lord. I’m sure he has. But I wonder about motivating people by making them feel like they aren’t doing enough, intentionally (or unintentionally) shaming them into feeling like failures for God.
Reflecting on this sermon, I had some thoughts on what I call a model of “Leadership Evangelism.” It involves seven points based on a leadership paradigm we came up with several years ago for our church that I have adapted to fit into an evangelism context. It begins with the initial premise and then works backward to a conclusion. Here goes:
1. Leadership is influence. Maxwell said it, and I believe it is true. Granted, influence comes by way of a lot of different means: wealth, position, social status, etc. These are not the means of influence I am advocating here.
2. Influence is not manipulation. Manipulation involves deviousness, trickery, or the idea of presenting something such that the person presenting it knows it is false, but does so because it is personally advantageous. So what is influence, as I define it?
3. Influence is inviting another person to experience a new reality or paradigm by first consistently modeling the effects of that new reality in your own life. To establish that the new paradigm has any validity whatsoever, some sort of positive outcome must be demonstrated. This can establish a level of relevance, which will be compelling to some.
4. Ideally, people are influenced by someone else they trust. Generally speaking, people will not value the word of a person that they know cannot be trusted. So how does one establish trust with another person?
5. Trust is earned by demonstrating consistent faithfulness over a long period of time, in the context of a relationship. Trust is not established overnight; it takes many months or years of modeling consistent, faithful behavior to build a higher level of “trust equity.”
6. We have to earn the right to tell a nonbeliever about the gospel. Because the church and Christianity has such a deservedly bad reputation, we are fighting an uphill battle. We have to work twice as hard to gain half as much, but this is simply the reality of our situation.
7. Being a friend to a nonbeliever is doing evangelism. This right here takes most of the pressure and the guilt right off. All you have to do is be a friend, and you are evangelizing.
Sometimes evangelism is a “one-off” type of situation, such as Philip and the Ethiopian eunuch. And for this guy who spoke, if he has the gift of evangelism, then these one-offs might be just the ticket--for him. But what if that approach doesn't work for me?
When we orient the discussion in terms of giftedness and 1 Corinthians 12, then him expecting others to be like him is, to use Paul's metaphor, to expect a toe to become an eye. Maybe for me, I can't be an eye because I am a toe.
However, we can't escape the reality that all believers are supposed to evangelize on some level. What I'm arguing is that--in the context of giftedness--if you are a toe, then be the best toe you can be. I wonder if that just might be a whole lot more compelling than trying to be something you're not. Being a faithful friend to a nonbeliever, simply being yourself and not trying to force the issue all the time under compulsion, may be the most balanced alternative here.
Sunday, September 02, 2007
Giving Up on the Church
I think it is indeed true: I have officially given up on the church.
Now what do I mean when I say “church”? Surely that is too broad, and it is. I mean: The Western church, the traditional type of church with which most of us are familiar. I do not mean necessarily “conservative” or “liberal” churches, but I include both really, as both are in many ways products of—and reactions to—Enlightenment modernism. One can be equally dogmatic and be a fundamentalist conservative or a fundamentalist liberal.
So does that mean I am saying, “There should be no more churches, ever?” We should just do away with all churches period? Surely that sounds a bit harsh, doesn’t it? Actually I am not saying there should never be any more churches. So technically I am not saying that churches should be done away with. No, I believe there is a need for churches. One cannot get away from the reality that God decided, for some reason, to create this thing called “the church” and that it exists to fulfill his purposes somehow in establishing his kingdom. Kinda hard to argue with him, isn’t it?
So what is my point here? I guess that what I am saying is this: My argument is that by and large, the way church is being done in the West, is not really working. I believe that when nonbelievers take a look at the church, their reaction is that the message of the church is not in the least relevant to their lives or situations. And because it is not relevant, it is—by definition—not compelling in any way, shape or form. If something is not relevant then it will not be compelling. Conversely, if something is relevant, then it will be compelling.
I think it has become a very tough sell for churches, this idea of “How do we relate to the world?” The issue has become one of points of contact. Ask yourself honestly, if you have any nonbelieving friends: Would I—could I—invite my nonbeliever friend to my church without feeling embarrassed for him or her at some point during the service? Maybe some would say that they could, and that would be great. But I think the majority would say that church is for “in-house people,” people who are already believers. I mean, the language used in a service is oftentimes highly theological (and thus obscure and irrelevant). And how many of your nonbelieving friends out there sing in any kind of corporate gathering, unless they are part of some Welsh men’s choir or something?
So then the question becomes: “Why would I invite a nonbeliever to my church?” What indeed would be the point of it? Now I grant you, there are lots of Christians out there who somehow found their way into a church and got saved. I know of one friend personally who has that story. Clearly it was a God thing. In fact I think that ultimately church growth must be a God thing, otherwise we would formulize it (though we have certainly tried—pick up some books on church growth methods) and every church would use the formula and grow.
But in giving up on the church, I have found a wonderful thing has happened. I no longer have to defend the church, which tends to be a large part of the conversation when talking with nonbelievers. I have had recently two conversations with avowed atheists, and each one was surprised when I told them I had given up on the church. They said much the same thing, for a lot of the same reasons I cite above. When I mentioned that I am on a quest personally to find out what it means to have a relationship with a God that one cannot see or communicate with person-to-person, they said much the same thing. The only difference between them and me is that I’m asking those questions from a perspective of faith while they were not. Though I have given up on the church, I have not given up on God.
Funny thing though, that I have perhaps more in common with atheists these days than other believers.
So what can be done about these problems? Of course there is no surefire “answer”—that would be too easy. I just wonder if we had the courage to ask these kinds of questions--and to act on them: Why are we doing what we are doing, at any point in our church? And if you can’t come up with a compelling answer as to why, then seriously think about scrapping it.
Where does it say that we have to have a church building? Think about how much money gets spent every year simply on maintenance and building upgrades, just to keep things looking nice. Where does it say that we have to have a service every Sunday morning (and/or Wednesday nights) complete with the following: Announcements, worship music, special music, and a sermon, followed by “fellowship time?”
Seriously, where does it say all this? Not in the Bible. All I can find is that it says not to forsake the regular gathering together, but it doesn’t indicate that gathering takes place in a multi-million dollar facility every Sunday, with all the other accoutrements we feel are so necessary to have in order to “do church.”
Margaret Thatcher a few years ago took a look at the British economy and decided that it was too dependent on manufacturing and coal mining. She reasoned that in 20 years or so, if things were left the way they were, the UK’s economy would not be internationally viable. So she simply closed down mills and coalmines. It was a brutal time for the country, for those who depended on those jobs. But she knew it had to be done, or within a few decades the UK would be in serious trouble.
Sometimes we need to cut our losses when we finally see the reality, that things aren’t working, that within 20 years the church as we know it will not be viable any more. Would it be difficult? Absolutely.
Painful? Yes.
But I ask: What is the alternative if things stay the way they are now?
Now what do I mean when I say “church”? Surely that is too broad, and it is. I mean: The Western church, the traditional type of church with which most of us are familiar. I do not mean necessarily “conservative” or “liberal” churches, but I include both really, as both are in many ways products of—and reactions to—Enlightenment modernism. One can be equally dogmatic and be a fundamentalist conservative or a fundamentalist liberal.
So does that mean I am saying, “There should be no more churches, ever?” We should just do away with all churches period? Surely that sounds a bit harsh, doesn’t it? Actually I am not saying there should never be any more churches. So technically I am not saying that churches should be done away with. No, I believe there is a need for churches. One cannot get away from the reality that God decided, for some reason, to create this thing called “the church” and that it exists to fulfill his purposes somehow in establishing his kingdom. Kinda hard to argue with him, isn’t it?
So what is my point here? I guess that what I am saying is this: My argument is that by and large, the way church is being done in the West, is not really working. I believe that when nonbelievers take a look at the church, their reaction is that the message of the church is not in the least relevant to their lives or situations. And because it is not relevant, it is—by definition—not compelling in any way, shape or form. If something is not relevant then it will not be compelling. Conversely, if something is relevant, then it will be compelling.
I think it has become a very tough sell for churches, this idea of “How do we relate to the world?” The issue has become one of points of contact. Ask yourself honestly, if you have any nonbelieving friends: Would I—could I—invite my nonbeliever friend to my church without feeling embarrassed for him or her at some point during the service? Maybe some would say that they could, and that would be great. But I think the majority would say that church is for “in-house people,” people who are already believers. I mean, the language used in a service is oftentimes highly theological (and thus obscure and irrelevant). And how many of your nonbelieving friends out there sing in any kind of corporate gathering, unless they are part of some Welsh men’s choir or something?
So then the question becomes: “Why would I invite a nonbeliever to my church?” What indeed would be the point of it? Now I grant you, there are lots of Christians out there who somehow found their way into a church and got saved. I know of one friend personally who has that story. Clearly it was a God thing. In fact I think that ultimately church growth must be a God thing, otherwise we would formulize it (though we have certainly tried—pick up some books on church growth methods) and every church would use the formula and grow.
But in giving up on the church, I have found a wonderful thing has happened. I no longer have to defend the church, which tends to be a large part of the conversation when talking with nonbelievers. I have had recently two conversations with avowed atheists, and each one was surprised when I told them I had given up on the church. They said much the same thing, for a lot of the same reasons I cite above. When I mentioned that I am on a quest personally to find out what it means to have a relationship with a God that one cannot see or communicate with person-to-person, they said much the same thing. The only difference between them and me is that I’m asking those questions from a perspective of faith while they were not. Though I have given up on the church, I have not given up on God.
Funny thing though, that I have perhaps more in common with atheists these days than other believers.
So what can be done about these problems? Of course there is no surefire “answer”—that would be too easy. I just wonder if we had the courage to ask these kinds of questions--and to act on them: Why are we doing what we are doing, at any point in our church? And if you can’t come up with a compelling answer as to why, then seriously think about scrapping it.
Where does it say that we have to have a church building? Think about how much money gets spent every year simply on maintenance and building upgrades, just to keep things looking nice. Where does it say that we have to have a service every Sunday morning (and/or Wednesday nights) complete with the following: Announcements, worship music, special music, and a sermon, followed by “fellowship time?”
Seriously, where does it say all this? Not in the Bible. All I can find is that it says not to forsake the regular gathering together, but it doesn’t indicate that gathering takes place in a multi-million dollar facility every Sunday, with all the other accoutrements we feel are so necessary to have in order to “do church.”
Margaret Thatcher a few years ago took a look at the British economy and decided that it was too dependent on manufacturing and coal mining. She reasoned that in 20 years or so, if things were left the way they were, the UK’s economy would not be internationally viable. So she simply closed down mills and coalmines. It was a brutal time for the country, for those who depended on those jobs. But she knew it had to be done, or within a few decades the UK would be in serious trouble.
Sometimes we need to cut our losses when we finally see the reality, that things aren’t working, that within 20 years the church as we know it will not be viable any more. Would it be difficult? Absolutely.
Painful? Yes.
But I ask: What is the alternative if things stay the way they are now?
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